Charm
by Kusuriurii
Summary: I'm your lambskin cloak of love, Baby try me on [Sasori x Sakura, Sasosaku] Drabbles
1. Beginning

This is a collection of Sasori and Sakura fan fictions in which span a multitude of themes, mediums and ideals. Inspired by other pieces of Fan fiction literature, theme lists from over the ages, differing anime and the like.

I hope you all enjoy~


	2. Cinnamon

**oo1. Cinnamon**

* * *

It wasn't a true red, it was an rusty hue like dried blood - however when the sun caught his hair the strings of fire could be seen. However, regarding Sasori's hair as dried blood seemed, _negative - _And the pink hair girl thought to rectify this negative connotation for the puppet master's hair of all in deep though, he regarded warily what trouble could be brewing inside his 'captives' mind. Sakura by then could have sworn she heard the piff of an snort from the Akatsuki member, yet it mattered not as her minced over thoughts about the distinctive coloration of his hair.

That is when it hit her, Cinnamon! that was the color in which dominated his hair coloration and those deceiving eyes. Her hands came together in pleasure, and the cloaked man/puppet some what frowned in thought.

_'She is my prisoner, and yet she is happy about something.'_

However, he was gobsmacked when he had heard the girl whom almost defeated him color code and define his hair.

"I got it, your hair is the color of cinnamon!"

It was almost childish and albietly she didn't give a two shits. As this little 'game' constructed in her mind, the renaming of definitions that were in detailed reports like dried blood colored hair. This honestly kept her mind off of the fact that she was his 'prisoner'. Her pale green eyes staring him down, as the flash of annoyance crossed Sasori's features.

With her blurting out those words, the medic nin quintessentially stated she didn't fear the red scorpion. Even though many other steadfastly loyal ninjas, her peers and even his partner feared his impatience and reputation. His eyes stared her down for an moment and Sakura felt quite ridiculous for the first time in years. Not like she owed him anything or felt like she needed to impress the man who held her hostage in his multitudes of chakra threads.

"What did you say?"

His voice almost quivered, and at the time she couldn't tell if it was frustration, anger or some of blasé amusement at his captive pet. Just then the woman could understand what her statement could have been and decided to reinforce this notion further with the highly impatient genius. And she felt some sort of satisfaction when her voice essentially reiterated what was said.

" I said, your hair - the thing on your head is the color of Cinnamon not dried blood."

* * *

Obviously, Sakura and Chiyo lost the fight with Sasori. Instead of killing Sakura right away, Sasori has kept her alive as a form of bait for the kyuubi Jinchuuriki (Naruto -duh).

fyaaaaaaaaaaah. Don't kill me. :I


	3. Reincarnation

**oo2. Reincarnation**

* * *

He couldn't believe in the notion of reincarnation, it was flimsy and at best an whimsical notion created by civilians to comfort themselves on the thought of death. Suna had never been particularly adamant like other villages and nations, instead much like Kirigakure - they had reveled in the notion of tough love and the bitter truth. That when you die, that is it. Poof, gone as if you never existed in real life, only in stores and passed down lore were you true.

That is why Sasori wanted to fight the evitable decay of his body, to create something that would eventually be immortal. However nothing lived forever, and nothing ever lasted. As mountains, forests, lakes, deserts and so on morphed to the whims of nature and the planet they resided upon. It was an ludicrous notion, the idea that you become something else after you die and it continued on and on until you got it right. His old Akatsuki partner was obsessed with the ideals of reincarnation, the very idea of it was an simmering, undying flame within Orochimaru. After all, it was essentially instilled in the pasty, reptilian man at a young age when he came across a white snake skin. And was explained to, that it was a symbol of rebirth and good fortune.

Apart of the puppeteer ninja was glad when that creep defected, at the very least he wouldn't have to listen to that story again. However the red head now had to believe in the notion of reincarnation, even it was an false existence fueled by chakra and an corpse. The balmy breeze, the hint of death and discharged jutsus, felt every bit as real as it used to be. And to say the very least he was very much 'alive' because of the Edo Tensei technique released by his old spy. Needless to say, it was his proverbial second chance at life.

Fingers twitched to life as strings of faint blue attached themselves to an corpse of an fallen shinobi. Akasuna no Sasori then realized that he now was the puppet, and his will was obviously not his own anymore. The immortally young Suna man snarled inwardly at this and did as he was told. Within the confines of battle, his body was destroyed over and over again, and the results were still the same much to the horror of his enemies. However it wasn't the same as when he was 'alive', that exhilarating feeling of battle was gone. The prospect of living or dying was non-existent in his now current condition as his old Akatsuki partner, Deidara blew up enemies from his safe perch atop of the comical clay bird of his.

Yet when control from Kabuto lazed he couldn't help but to think wistfully about the pink haired kunoichi who helped end his existence as an 'puppet'. The red head could surmise that she would be surprised, disappointed and on guard if they ever crossed paths. Sasori wanted to see her again, it was an inexplicable feeling that resided where his heart should have been. It was odd, an woman he should have hated with an desirable rage for ending his existence, he felt some sort of bond to. If anything the puppeteer wished in the back of his controlled mind that they would meet again. And that pink haired girl from so long ago would put him to rest again. He wanted nothing more than that, to see those lively green eyes, the exhilaration of their battle and the reconnection of old bonds once tattered by his dead hate for new bonds she held with his now deceased family member.

Ah but fate was cruel and it laughed at him, it toyed with the infamous man - as they encountered Kankuro's squad and engaged them in an heated battle. Sasori was distracted to say the least as they were inevitably caught in the double iron maiden. Deidara was basically howling for release, and all the red head wanted to do was rest despite the control over his actions. As he listened to the rival puppet master's words he could feel himself slipping away giving in to it, and finally finding peace with it. As he slowly disintegrated in that wooden holding, his last thoughts were on her...Sakura - the pink haired kunoichi to whom he felt an inexplicable bond to. and some form of twisted love.


End file.
